


Owned

by Tallihensia



Series: Possessions [4]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Dubious Consent, Future Fic, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/pseuds/Tallihensia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the last episode, Clark had enough of Lex's assumptions about who owned whom.  Lex can't stop thinking about it.  Then he doesn't have to think, as Clark comes back for more.  (READ THE PREVIOUS STORIES FIRST!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Owned

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Only mine in my dreams. This story was written for free entertainment purposes only and may not be reproduced for profit or altered without permission.
> 
>  **Warnings:** DUB CON! Even moreso than the last one. Though it still depends on how you read it and what definition you use for dub con. Let me know if you need more info. Though if you've been following the series, you'll know it's not the nicest of worlds.
> 
>  **Notes:** Fourth in the Possession series, after His, Caught, and Not the Way. READ THOSE FIRST! Future fic, post-rift. AU after seasons 2-3, Lois is DCU. Betas by Tainry and Day221b – thank you very much! I really appreciate it. 
> 
> Cross-posted to [my fic journal](http://alatrific.livejournal.com/49084.html).

# Owned

Lex sat at his desk and went through the encrypted property records. There wasn't anything in the office or warehouse that was illegal – those were all very legitimate LuthorCorp files and shipments. Yet, the fact that Lois Lane was poking around in them and asking about his other activities meant that it would be prudent to check to make sure he was covered on every angle.

The day before, he hadn't meant to leave Lois in the office. He was supposed to have escorted her from the building on their way out, with, perhaps, that promised interview. He couldn't, though, stay after what had happened.

Clark wasn't supposed to do things like that. Not... that.

Lex shivered, his body remembering. No. He was the owner, Clark was _his_ , and he was the one who messed with Clark. Not the other way around.

Not the one who had hands gripping his shoulders, teeth biting into his neck. He was wearing a soft turtleneck shirt today, and he could still feel it. The bruise, the suction, the wound stinging and making him jerk without dignity. 

The possession.

No. He was the one who owned Clark, the one who fucked him in dark alleys and while tied up in warehouses. He was the one who made Clark shiver when he touched him, and go quiet, eyes wide behind those silly glasses.

He wasn't the one who got fucked, speared open with a solid steel member, lubricated only with Lois' juices and Clark's spit. He wasn't the one who had cried as Clark pushed in, a hand on his shoulder, the other stroking along his back. It wasn't him. He didn't do that. Ever.

Clark was the one who got fucked. That had been fucked in every room in the castle and the loft, and even one daring day in Martha's kitchen and then on Jonathan's chair. He'd taught the boy to enjoy being fucked at every opportunity, that impressive length of his going hard when he simply saw Lex. Lex had enjoyed showing up in the most inconvenient places for Clark, just to see the boy squirm. He'd fucked him in the Talon afterhours and also in the office while the stupid cheerleader was downstairs serving customers.

Clark loved getting fucked. He submitted to it even all these years later, because he knew the truth, that he was Lex's and always would be.

He'd never been taught to fuck. Not the way he had the day before. Not with the precision and passion, strength barely restrained yet not restrained, fucking his way through Lex's body and mind. Lex had never been fucked. Clark never did that. Never.

Maybe it had been Lois who had taught him, with her wanton ways and body rich for pleasure. She'd been eager enough for it, primed with the wanting and the need, as close to Superman as she'd ever get, not that the stupid bitch knew it. Too eager for the ideal, she couldn't see the reality.

The reality had seen her, though, seen and rejected, going straight for Lex.

Sitting at his desk, nobody around but himself, Lex gasped from the memory. The eyes. The icy blue eyes with red glinting out, so angry, so sure. So different from green hazel that bled softness and yielding to every desire Lex had. And yet somehow the same. Pinning Lex down, holding him there without the need for a single touch. Yet touches there were.

Forcing his way inside Lex's mouth. Making everything Lex knew fly right out the window as his mouth was forced open and the length shoved forward. On any normal day, Lex could deep-throat well enough to make strong men drop to their knees and pray to heaven. He'd brought Clark down more often than he could count. Controlling what they did with the power of his mouth. But when those icy blue eyes were staring at him and the sense of wrong was making his body weak... Lex could do nothing. Nothing but grab the hips in front of him and hold on and pray it would never end because the wrong was so right. So right and so wrong and it shouldn't ever, ever have happened.

"Lex."

It took an extreme effort of will not to react. Slowly, Lex turned in his chair to face the intruder.

Superman's eyes were blue today, as Superman's were, not Clark's green hazel. A bright, shining blue, focused intently on him. The bastard grinned. "Nice turtleneck."

Lex would not give him the satisfaction. "Alien." He used the insult that generally hurt the most. "What do you want?"

"You really have to ask?"

Superman strode over, reached over the desk, and yanked Lex up. He hauled him over the desk, disregarding all the papers and items that were on the desk, just barely controlling it enough that Lex wasn't hurt himself. Lex struggled, but it did no good, held in super-human hands.

When Lex was on the other side and his feet upon the ground, Superman used one hand to grab Lex's chin and tilt his face up. Then he kissed him.

It was hard to struggle while melting into a kiss. Lex tried his best. He tried to resist, to bite, to stomp, to push. But he was up against super-human strength that held him close, invulnerable skin that didn't care about teeth, and a tongue in his mouth that was killing his senses. He found his hands clenching into the arms holding him and he had to force himself to let go and form fists to beat at Superman's chest.

Eventually, Superman pulled back. "Nice."

"Fuck you!" Lex was furious.

Superman grinned lazily. "No, I don't think so... and whether I fuck _you_ or not depends on how prepared you are." He looked Lex up and down, concentrating on his middle, with that slightly unfocused look that said his x-ray vision was active. "No butt plug? Lex, I'm disappointed.... Surely you know how to use one yourself. You used to have enough of them." His voice sharpened at the last. 

There was a fury within him that couldn't be contained. Instead, Lex channeled it into his coldest, most remote, 'you-are-so-dead' voice. "I don't know what you're talking about, _Superman_."

The alien didn't seem to be phased by it. Instead, his eyes softened to a slightly turquoise hue, not dipping into hazel, but leaving the strict blue color. "I was wondering if you were going to play it that way," he said in a low voice. "Perhaps I should have told you. I think about it all the time. Our might-have-been from back then. I could have made a lot of different choices." His voice sharpened, "But you also made your own choices."

After all these years? After lying from the moment he met him, to their daily battles of now? Lex would have sworn that Clark didn't even know that he knew. He'd been very careful not to do any more than mock with words that could be interpreted differently, to keep Clark wondering. Although the incident in the office the other day was pretty telling. More on Clark's part than his own.

Clark leaned in to kiss Lex again, a gentler claiming than the one before, but still not giving Lex a choice about it.

Lex tried to take control of the kiss, to make it _his_ choice, for _him_ to impose on Clark, to make the ownership his, as it had always been.

With a chuckle, Clark pulled back. "No, Lex. No. You're _mine_."

"Like hell!" Lex used his physical training to do everything he could to break away. Superman let him make every move, letting go as he needed to keep Lex from hurting himself, then promptly grabbing again, quicker than any human could possibly move. It was almost an exercise in futility, and made Lex angrier. He normally refrained from any such actions that would show how useless his humanity was.

At the end of it, Lex was panting and furious. He was also turned on.

At the end of it, Superman pushed Lex against the wall with his own body and covered him, holding him there with his massive, large body, his hands one on Lex's thigh, the other on his hip, his lips on Lex's neck, sucking through the turtleneck shirt exactly where he'd bitten the day before.

Lex felt his head hitting the wall as he made room for Clark's neck antics. He bit his lip hard, worrying it until he could taste the blood in his mouth, trying not to cry out.

"That's it," he heard Clark mutter. "That's it. Mine."

That was not right. "No," Lex said, gasping out the word.

"Really?" Clark chuckled. He pushed his knee up between Lex's legs, pressing into his groin and his hard-on.

Lex couldn't hold back the moan and his involuntary thrust back.

"No doesn't count," Clark mocked. "Only a full "no, I don't want this" with enunciation will count."

Damn him to hell. "No, I don---"

Clark bucked his leg, right where Lex would feel it, and feel it he did. Lex gasped, his eyes dipping down and his hips rocking against Clark's leg. 

"You were saying?"

Lex trembled. He wanted to say it – he did – because he wasn't going to give Clark that satisfaction. But there was a strong thigh between his legs and a taste in his mouth, and Clark was right there. Lex opened his mouth... 

Nothing came out. He licked his lips and tried again, but there was still nothing.

"I've got better uses for that mouth of yours," Clark murmured and forced Lex to his knees.

There was a moment while Clark was not holding Lex, instead fiddling with the snaps on his costume, hands on the red outer-underwear. Lex could have broken away then. 

Instead, he stared. He knelt on his own carpet and watched large alien hands pull out a remarkably human-looking penis. Uncut, with the foreskin running over it, requiring a slightly different method to work with. Mostly straight, with just a little crook that one would never see by looking at it, only knowing it by the feel, which he knew well. Hard and ready for him, pre-cum showing at the tip as the head poked up through the foreskin. 

He knew that penis. He'd sucked it a thousand times, had brought Clark to his knees with mind-numbing orgasms, gone for quickies in the loft and even in the boys' restroom in the school, and in the Talon. He'd sucked it in the warehouse, putting his claim on Clark in front of his partner. And he'd eaten it the day before without his cooperation. Well, mostly without. Just shoved in his mouth, straight in, no regard for Lex, just taking his mouth hard.

God help him, he was drooling. Lex could feel the saliva dripping out the side of his mouth, and he shut it quickly, swallowing and hoping Clark hadn't seen that.

The chuckle from above him told him that hope was in vain. 

Hands took his head in a firm grasp. His head could be shattered like a ceramic cup in the alien's grasp, with Superman's strength that tore apart walls and buildings like they were tissue paper. Lex closed his eyes and shivered. He was also hard, as solid as Clark was in front of him. He wanted to fuck Clark so bad.

Instead, a soft blunt tip was pushed at his mouth until he opened his eyes and his mouth and took it in. How could invulnerable skin be soft and velvety? He licked at the head, tracing the flare around the edges, enjoying the gasp from above. 

For a moment more, they remained like that, tip and tongue and something almost familiar. Then with a moan, the hands on his head tightened to an almost painful grip and the full length was shoved in.

Lex choked. He'd known it was coming, but he hadn't had time to relax enough. He _wasn't_ relaxed and deep-throating took concentration and a willingness to go with it. He didn't have that now. All he had was a solid mass of penis being rammed into his mouth and throat and brought back only enough for another brace and then in again. He couldn't breathe, he felt like he might throw up. He gripped the thighs in front of him covered with the smooth unearthly fabric and held on with all his strength. It wouldn't leave any marks, he knew. There would be no finger-bruises from his grip; there would be no cuts where his teeth were grazing along what was supposed to the most sensitive part of a man. He tried to bite down a few times, to no effect.

Just when he thought he really would throw up, suddenly his mouth was freed. Freed and empty. He wanted it back. Panting open-mouth, he heaved in gulps of air, trying to fill his lungs from where they had been oxygen starved. He left his mouth open, and it felt so empty... 

Clark shoved back in again. Lex knelt there and took it. He could feel abrasions forming inside his mouth from the friction, no matter how soft the skin. Back and forth and back again, over and over. He breathed through his nose and loosened his throat muscles so he wasn't choking any more. It could have been any other time he sucked Clark, except he wasn't in charge any more. Clark was controlling all of him. His hands holding Lex still, his hips making the motions... Lex did nothing. Nothing but kneel there. It was so freaking good. He was going to come just from this.

The motions stopped and then liquid was filling his mouth. He swallowed as much as he could, but he hadn't been prepared and a lot of it came dribbling out. With Clark still in his mouth, there was nothing he could do about it. He could feel it dripping off his chin.

With a sigh, Clark pulled out. His hands held Lex for a long moment, and then released him. He stepped back. "Yeah, you were right. That's just really good."

Asshole. Just because Lex had said Clark _wanted_ to do it, didn't mean he thought he _should_.

Lex wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Clark grabbed the handkerchief from the pocket of Lex's suit, and wiped himself off with it. Then he put it back into Lex's pocket, grinning.

Asshole. Lex ignored Clark. Surreptitiously, he tested the stability of his legs and decided he'd better not try standing up just yet. He didn't want to reveal wobbly balance in front of his greatest enemy. He was also still hard and wanting some serious release. 

Clark waited a brief moment, but when Lex didn't move, he tucked himself back into the suit. Deflated, blood having moved on elsewhere in his body, the large penis actually fit. He packed left, but it didn't show when the last snap was refastened. Lex wondered if there was something in the suit properties that masked the bulge, because the costume sure looked from the outside like it was form-fitting. It must be convenient for not looking like a pervert if Superman got a hard-on rescuing someone. Lex wondered if Superman had ever fucked Lois while flying. 

"Such a good boy," Clark murmured, stroking Lex's head. "Such a perfect mouth."

Lex fought an internal battle not to lean into the caress. Nobody ever did that to his bald head. He never wanted anybody to, and got rid of those mistresses who tried it. Clark wasn't asking for permission, he just did it, his large hand stroking the bare expanse of skin over and over again. Lex closed his eyes. He just wanted Clark to leave so he could jerk himself off. He really wanted to fuck Clark right now, but in the mood Clark was in, that wasn't going to happen. Not without some kryptonite around. Why didn't he have any kryptonite handy?

Finally, Clark stepped back with a sigh. "Okay. So that's this time. But next? Next time, Lex, you're going to have yourself ready and waiting for me."

There wasn't going to be any God-damned next time. Lex stayed where he was and didn't say it out loud. The sooner the alien left, the better.

There was the sound of footsteps moving away. Then a cool breeze flowed through the office. 

Lex looked up. Mischievous green-blue eyes met his over a pursed mouth. The breeze chilled even more and centered on him...

Within moments, the equivalent of jumping in an icy lake had washed over him with the usual predictable results. 

"God Damn, you fucking bastard!" Lex gritted his teeth as he shivered in the cold air.

The breeze turned warm, removing the chill from the air and preventing the possibility of frost bite, but other bodily functions didn't so easily return.

"You are an asshole. A complete and total fucktard."

Clark grinned. "I want you to be ready for me next time, Lex. Me. Not your hand. You're not going to be rewarded for not being ready. So," Clark turned, sweeping the stupid red cape behind him, "see you later."

Within moments, he was gone.

Lex stood up, reaching a hand to the wall and standing for a moment before he tried moving. His hand was sticky. He swallowed, tasting alien leavings in his mouth, and swallowing again because it tasted good. Not that far out of human range to be impossible, but enough so it was distinguishable. He'd wondered about the taste when they were young.

He wondered what Clark would do if Lex called a woman that night. Or a man. He still wanted to fuck somebody, even if he currently wasn't up to the task. Damn the alien. He remembered what Superman had looked like the day before and shivered. He wondered if his life would be at risk if he picked a random person to fuck. He wondered if theirs would be. Superman didn't kill. But Superman didn't like him fucking Lois, that was for certain. Clark had never objected to any of Lex's lovers before.

The rules had changed.

But Lex wasn't prepared to give up. Clark was _his_. Always his. He wasn't the one owned, Clark was.

He went back to his desk and plotted.

* * *

* * *

END


End file.
